


Tumblr Prompt Fills

by a_quick_drink



Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux, Fast and the Furious Series, Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Established Relationship, Faked Death, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Humor, Just Add Kittens, Light Angst, M/M, Prompt Fill, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:14:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5555597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_quick_drink/pseuds/a_quick_drink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An assortment of prompt fills for multiple fandoms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Liam Bell/Preston - “I’m like 75% this won’t explode on us.”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lihllith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lihllith/gifts), [Casey_Wolfe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casey_Wolfe/gifts).



> Sentence prompts taken from [this list](http://meetcuteproject.tumblr.com/post/130771530842/ridiculous-sentence-prompts) :p

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for: lilithnox

“I’m like 75% this won’t explode on us.”

Preston cocked an eyebrow at Liam who was busy mixing up a toxic cocktail of household and gardening supplies that would, in theory, cause chaos when they needed it most. “Remind me again why I trust you.”

Liam paused in his work and offered Preston a wicked smirk. “Because you love me?” He poured a finger of drain cleaner into a measuring cup, and then slowly added it to the jug in front of him. “I’m the one who should be concerned. It’s your ability to hit a target from that distance that this all hinges on.”

Preston huffed. He was an excellent marksman, if he did say so himself, and there was no reason to believe he would miss–he couldn’t miss. He supposed that was Liam’s point. They’d been through far worse plans together yet he’d never questioned Liam’s skill. Then again, said plans also hadn’t required homemade explosives either, thank God. Liam was the only one of them who had any experience with that sort of thing though he was rusty and had to do some research beforehand. 

Liam capped the jug and set it aside before peeling off the disposable gloves he’d been wearing and tossing them in the trash. “We’ll be fine, love,” he purred, hooking his arms around Preston’s waist and pulling them together so their chests touched. “It was just a joke to loosen you up since you’ve been so tense lately.”

Liam pressed a kiss to Preston’s throat, lips hovering over one of the many scars left from where he’d been burned a year ago. “This won’t be like that at all,” Liam murmured.

Nodding, Preston tightened his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders. He knew it wasn’t the same–they’d actually planned all of this–but he still shied away from anything that could create a fire of any size. This explosion would no doubt set a good portion of the hangar on fire, and while he’d be a kilometer away, the memory of choking on smoke while nearly being burned alive lingered in the back of his mind. His greatest fear was Liam experiencing that–and not being able to save him.

As if reading his mind, Liam’s lips moved against his. “I trust you.”


	2. Brad/Nate - “I may have accidentally sort of adopted five cats.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for: caseywolfe07

Dead on his feet after three days without more than an hour–or was it two? he couldn’t remember anymore–total of sleep, Nate wandered across the camp in search of the one person who could boost his flagging spirit. When he spotted Brad, though, his mood sank further. 

Instead of being alone like Nate had hoped, Brad had his back to him while a group of guys crowded around. Curious, Nate joined the group to see what everyone was so interested in. He expected to see Ray making a fool of himself like usual not…a kitten? Nate blinked and rubbed his eyes but the kitten was still there. He needed to squeeze in more sleep if this was the kind of hallucination that resulted. 

Mustering a smile, Nate slid up beside Brad. “What’s going on?”

A few of the guys eyed him warily, but Brad just slung an arm around his shoulders and held up the kitten in his other hand. There was no apology in his voice when he answered, “I may have accidentally sort of adopted five cats.”

Nate blinked again. He saw only one kitten in Brad’s hand but spotted the other four when he glanced at the other guys: one kitten tucked into a pocket on Poke’s vest, another kitten perched on Rudy’s shoulder while it chewed and tugged at his shemagh, a third gently cupped between Mike’s big hands, and Ray dragging a shoelace across the ground for the mother to pounce on while everyone else watched in amusement.

“Can we keep em?” Walt asked, hopeful.

Nate hated being the bad guy. “Unfortunately we can’t.”. If they were at home instead of at war, he would’ve let Brad keep the entire family if that’s what his boyfriend wanted. But they weren’t at home, something he was keenly aware of as one miserable day bled into the next.

A chorus of disappointment went up then and Nate looked to Mike for help. Surely his Gunny would back him up on this.

Mike shrugged. “They’re not hurtin’ anything, and it’s not like we’re going anywhere anytime soon.”

The family really wasn’t doing any harm–quite the opposite actually. The guys needed the reminder that they were still capable of compassion and nurturing despite everything they’d done in the name of freedom. This was something they could feel good about, something they wouldn’t make a mess of. He’d explain that it improved morale if anyone questioned it.

“Fine,” Nate said easily, trying to make it sound like this was a difficult decision and failing when his lips twisted into a half smile. “Just try to find someone in the village who’ll take care of them before we leave, okay?” He would’ve loved to bring the little family along but it simply wasn’t practical, and he didn’t want to completely abandon them either.

Relief washed over Nate when he looked up at Brad’s smiling face. He’d made a good call, not something he could say about all the others he’d made.

Nate scratched the chin of the kitten in Brad’s hand. “How are you going to feed them anyway?”

“Jerky!” Poke said.

Christeson barked a laugh. “Cats don’t eat jerky, ya fool!”

“This one does.” Sure enough, tiny paws reached up and grabbed the shred of meat when Poke dangled the treat above the kitten’s nose, eliciting another round of laughter from everyone.

Nate just shook his head and leaned into Brad. What had he gotten himself into?


	3. Carter/Owen - “Who wouldn’t be angry you ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for: caseywolfe07

Still patiently listening to Carter’s impassioned rant, Owen glanced at his watch. Any minute now Carter would go full Spanish on his arse, and then he’d really be in trouble. Carter in a snit was a breathtaking thing to behold. Not so much when that energy was directed at him.

“Who wouldn’t be angry, Owen? You ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!” Owen flinched as Carter’s voice rose until he was almost shouting the last words. He hadn’t meant to be gone that long or in such a fashion, but it’d taken much longer to shake the crime lord than he’d expected. Carter of all people should’ve understood that at least.

Hoping he looked suitably chastised, Owen glanced up but Carter didn’t seem to notice as he turned his back to Owen. “You know what? It’s not even the three years that bothers me, it’s that you were here–in our house–and never said a word, left a note, nothing.”

“That’s what the cereal was for,” Owen pointed out. In retrospect, he now realized how dumb his clever idea at the time really was. And how sick he was of cereal.

Muttering something in Spanish, Carter spun around and grabbed a fistful of Owen’s shirt, yanking him off the couch and into a crushing embrace. “You fool. What if I’d moved on?”

He’d known it was a possibility, one he feared, but there was nothing else he could do to save them both. He’d rather live the rest of his life without Carter than risk his life or freedom for something he had nothing to do with. “But you didn’t,” Owen said.

“I could have.”

A growl rumbled in Owen’s throat. “Do I need to pay Blondie a visit later?” Barely a month after the funeral he’d spotted O'Conner sniffing around his husband. Owen had tried warding him off but the persistent little bastard just would not take the hint. So he’d stolen Blondie’s precious GT-R, dismantled it, and sold it off piece by piece. He’d made a nice chunk of change from the effort, but it was the delight in knowing O'Conner would never find it that truly helped him get through those lonely nights.

“Nothing happened, O,” Carter murmured, lipping at Owen’s earlobe. “You’re all I thought about from that first day to the last. After that? I know I couldn’t ever get over you, cariño.”

“So does that mean you’re not angry anymore?” It was only a joke, one that Owen hoped would at least somewhat diffuse the situation. Carter would be angry for a long time and he had every right to be.

“Not even close. But I’m exhausted and just want to take you to bed.” Pulling away, Carter laced their fingers together and pulled Owen after him toward the stairs. “And don’t think we’re done talking about this.”

Never. Owen was simply glad there was still a home for him to return to. And this time he wasn’t about to do anything that’d make him leave it again.


	4. Carter/Owen - “The skirt is short on purpose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for: Anonymous

“The skirt is short on purpose.”

“And what purpose might that be?” Owen asked as he stepped back into the bedroom, tugging down on the gold skirt riding low on his hips. The damned thing left little to the imagination, and nothing he did made it comfortable; the matching sandals and laurel crown didn’t look much better. He would’ve passed on seducing Carter’s rival into revealing secrets had he known dressing up like a Grecian whore was required.

Carter’s lips curved into a smile as he got up from the bed. “Because he has to come to you or he’ll get suspicious.” There was a jar filled with something gold in his hand, but he spun Owen around before he could figure out what. A second later the sweet scent of vanilla filled Owen’s nose as a soft brush ghosted over his bare shoulders. “You need to be the most irresistible thing in that crowd tonight,” Carter murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

Owen shivered. “Won’t you be jealous?” he tried. Carter had loosened up once he was confident Owen wasn’t out to get him or his money like everyone else was, but surely he wouldn’t appreciate someone’s hands all over _his_ boyfriend.

Carter turned him around again so they were facing each other and dusted him with more of the scented powder that made his skin glisten. “You can’t even imagine.” Carter kissed his collarbone and then his lips, the lingering powder tasting like sugar on Owen’s tongue. “He’s lucky I can’t be there or I’d break his hands.”

Huffing, Owen went and snatched up the remaining pieces of the costume from the bed. He’d break the guy’s hands himself if it turned out he was doing this for nothing. 

A wolf-whistle sounded down the hall after him. 

Either way he’d kick Carter’s ass when he got home…


	5. Carter/Owen - "I understand the whole sleep talking thing but what I don't understand is the princess dragon dream and why I'm in it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for: Anonymous

"I understand the whole sleep talking thing but what I don't understand is the princess dragon dream and why I'm in it."

"I told you I don't want to talk about it, Carter."

"Why not?" Carter asked as he cut in front of Owen and backed him against the wall. "It sounded like you were having fun." His voice dropped from seductive purr to a threatening growl. "Without me."

Owen gulped when Carter grabbed his wrists and pinned them on either side of his head to the wall. On the one hand, he was _really_ turned on right now and wanted to see just how much further he could push Carter's jealousy. On the other hand, he _really_ didn't want to explain the specifics of the dream, which he'd have to do regardless if he ever wanted to get Carter off his case.

"Maybe I was," Owen said, grinning when he felt Carter's grip tighten around his wrists, "maybe I wasn't."

Carter's hand slid down Owen's arm and settled at his throat. "You're teasing me, cariño."

"Am I?" Owen bit back a groan as Carter's fingers pressed into his skin, stroking his jugular with a thumb. He wasn't the only one teasing here.

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Because it was just a ridiculous dream. I've already forgotten most of it," Owen lied.

Blue eyes narrowed at him. "What are you hiding from me?"

Owen barked a laugh. "Would you relax? I'm not hiding anything." He wriggled out of Carter's grip and threw his arms around his boyfriend's shoulders. "You know you're the only one for me, love," he purred, combing his fingers through Carter's curls in an effort to distract him.

It worked for all of a second before Carter's lips twisted into a knowing smirk. "You were the princess, weren't you?"

Owen's cheeks burned. Damned perceptive crime lords, you couldn't get anything past them. He should've denied any memory of the dream when Carter had asked about it earlier that morning; he would never live this down, he was sure of it. "Well, yes, but it's not like I was a woman."

Carter didn't even seem to notice--or care. "So I was the prince then?"

"Dragon," Owen corrected while Carter blinked in confusion. "A handsome man who could turn into a big gorgeous beast whose mere presence made everyone else cower in fear."

Another growl rumbled in Carter's throat, this time in delight. "And what do dragons do to pretty princesses then?"

Ignoring the 'pretty princess' comment, Owen whispered in his ear, "They get on their knees and do as they're told." Tracing the shell of Carter's ear with his tongue, Owen grinned to himself when a soft whimper escaped Carter's lips. Oh the fun he was going to have with this...


End file.
